Jess brings a hutch she found into the apartment. Schmidt objects to it on aesthetic grounds: “Pine has no place in this loft. It’s the wood of poor people and outhouses.” Behind her back, he tips it over and breaks it. Jess then decides Schmidt needs to learn how to be more “spontaneous,” so she takes him to Venice (the Los Angeles one) where he joins a drum circle. Meanwhile, Nick owes a fellow named Winston $400-something after a disastrous poker game wherein he passed out and his immature friends drew “long-stemmed mushrooms” and a “mossy little cave” on his back.

*Bruce:*To my mind, this was the worst episode of New Girl to-date—worse even than last week’s Very Special Episode, which at least had the virtues of being weird and ambitious, even if it lacked the virtue of being good. This new episode felt so generic, like the writers were pulling out ancient, shopworn sitcom tropes from under the cushions of the grotty old writers room sofa: Elly Mae decides to change Jethro, but with unintentionally disastrous results! Meanwhile, Theo owes Rudy money and she insists on collecting—plus vig! (Eight-year-olds talking like good fellas = sex-crazed grannies = comedy gold.) Was there anything to like here?

Juli: Bruce, I have little idea what any of those verbs or proper nouns mean, but I completely agree: an underwhelming week with our television roommates. The episode actually had a very promising cold open, and there were a number of clever lines, the best of which was Schmidt choosing to walk back to the loft from Cece’s car without shoes on because “I can get a Tetanus shot but I can’t cure damaged suede.”

The problem was, as you pointed out, the plotlines: it turns out watching people arguing about money, as in the case of Winston and Nick, is even more tedious than actually arguing about money. (In the latter, at least, there’s potentially money to gain!) It also turns out that watching people try to “change” one another, as in the case of Schmidt and Jess, is just as excruciating as trying to “change” a friend or significant other.
Bruce: Or “change” Washington, President Obama [comic over-emphasis on “President Obama”]. I did like the flashback scene of fat Schmidt moving into the apartment, though I forget what the point was. And I liked the sight of Schmidt in one of those nubby South American (I think) pullovers that stoners and surfers and hacky-sack players wear, but his instant transformation into a groovy drum-circle guy was as contrived as the rest of the episode.

*Juli:*An exhaustive Google search suggests it is called a “Baja hoodie”! The large front pocket conceals substantial quantities of drugs and drug paraphernalia? Right? Kids? Or can you smoke the pullover itself? Is the pullover made out of marijuana plants? Is that it?

Once Schmidt becomes a groovy drum-circle guy, he stops cleaning up the apartment and cooking for everyone. The gang realizes: We’ve got to get the old Schmidt back! Meanwhile, Nick and that Winston guy resolve their money thing.

Bruce: In last month’s episodes I sensed the writers were relaxing and learning how to let their characters bounce off of each other in organic, interesting ways—sort of like the Knicks in the early days of Linsanity, when the ball was circulating freely, everyone was getting touches and scoring, and the team was winning. But now Carmelo Anthony is standing on top of the writer’s table hogging the ball and the offense is sputtering. (This is not a totally arbitrary metaphor influenced solely by my reading of this morning’s sports page, because in several episodes of New Girl it was been mentioned in passing that Winston, a character who occasionally appears on the show, used to be a professional basketball player. In this episode we learn further that he likes to drink “cognac and Cokes.”)

Juli: Yes, I also agree with that athletics and/or professional sports metaphor. In this situation. . . cognac and Coke is. . . LeBron James. . . and Jeremy Lin is. . . the one I am familiar with.

Bruce: Let’s stop talking about this uninspired episode! I was much more amused by the post you sent me yesterday written by Zooey Deschanel from the Hello Giggles Tumblr. (Hello Giggles is a Web site, co-founded by Deschanel, that demonstrates for readers what it would be like if the Huffington Post had a twee-girly vertical.) The post is actually a sweet, if clichéd, exhortation to “be tender and open,” a reminder that “nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to be truly affected by things.” Can’t argue with that, as much as my knee-jerk magazine editor’s reliance on easy snark wants me to. The amusing part was the list of names of people who liked or reblogged the post, among them:

manyhatter

wonderlights

pancakebunnies

rosecoloredbifocals

Warm-puppy

dancing-underneaththemoonlight

deergirl-picadilly

zebracasserole

mouseteeth

telescope-eyes

One senses there are so many real-life Jesses out there! Who knew?

Juli: My favorite was “recycledsoul.” The knee-jerk magazine writer in me wants to ask if said soul can be exchanged for five cents or ten cents in participating states. But I, like Schmidt, am trying to change! This blog post is our Venice Beach drum circle!